Saturday, December 6, 2008
The Delicate Devil
I've been trying to get through the gates of hell for a very long time, but my wings keep getting in the way! :P
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Waltz
As dusk tenderly descends over the world, night awaits, with moist eyes and fingers curled,
Forlorn, for her lover is about to depart,
As the brooding moon grieves, in the shadow of sepia leaves,
I'm beginning to read the poetry in my heart.
Forlorn, for her lover is about to depart,
As the brooding moon grieves, in the shadow of sepia leaves,
I'm beginning to read the poetry in my heart.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Return
No more do raindrops burst my dreams,
Never again will tears refuse to flow,
Among the thousand pearls scattered around,
I'm the one in the salty ocean below.
Not like every drone of misery,
Who in the glow of cold comfort basks,
Would rather be a disfigured face,
All alone in a sea of wooden masks.
Tired of living within the lines,
Leading a life of dots and dashes,
On fire, I set myself once again,
Just to kneel and gather my ashes.
The shackles all lie burnt and broken,
Like hope born out of every strife,
As my past holds its breath,
This is me, coming back to life.
No more a firefly in daylight.
Never again will tears refuse to flow,
Among the thousand pearls scattered around,
I'm the one in the salty ocean below.
Not like every drone of misery,
Who in the glow of cold comfort basks,
Would rather be a disfigured face,
All alone in a sea of wooden masks.
Tired of living within the lines,
Leading a life of dots and dashes,
On fire, I set myself once again,
Just to kneel and gather my ashes.
The shackles all lie burnt and broken,
Like hope born out of every strife,
As my past holds its breath,
This is me, coming back to life.
No more a firefly in daylight.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Sigh
I'm hanging outside the 11.40 pm local and the rain is lashing across my face with a fury so vicious that I'm blinded by the cascade.
I struggle to open my eyes, fighting against the gale, just enough to see tiny droplets clinging onto my eyelashes, as the city passes by in a blur; like a flurry of fireflies in a black forest.
Pure, vintage Bombay.
I struggle to open my eyes, fighting against the gale, just enough to see tiny droplets clinging onto my eyelashes, as the city passes by in a blur; like a flurry of fireflies in a black forest.
Pure, vintage Bombay.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Lost And Found
I could not sleep.
No matter how hard I tried, I could not scare them away. The demons in my dreams, the ghosts in my head. I lay in bed, tired of tossing and turning around and tried to grasp onto the merest hint of silence but I felt them charge menacingly back in, kicking and screaming. Those ghosts, those memories, gnawing into every thought that my mind struggled to give birth to. It had been a tough month. No, not tough, terrible. Rejection, failure, regret, heartbreak and death. The past month had seen it all.
Life seemed to have been stuck in reverse, pounding against the wall, refusing to budge. And I, feeling queasy about the ease of hopelessness, dived right in, stoic and limp, to drown in a sea of bitter emotions, having lost myself in the land of grief. I had gone through it all. The failure of everything I’d held on to, those regretful decisions, her betrayal and the worst of all, living to see a friend’s final breath. My dearest one.
I was stuck in a place where every single breath I took burned my throat, throttled me and seemed to freeze my blood. A place where every single thought raped my mind and sent gloom wandering through the graveyard of my heart to exhume every memory I had buried. I was at The Grim Reaper’s masquerade, soigné, eagerly looking forward to a hangover.
I opened my eyes, startled and disoriented. I couldn’t take it any longer. I pulled the covers aside, swung my legs over the edge of my bed and sat up. I sat there, slumped, with my head in my hands, my fingers running through my hair, tugging at the tiny knots of hair on my nape. I glanced down at the bottom of the French windows framing my balcony. The glass had been fogged by a sheet of mist, like a muslin cloth draped across its surface. It had been raining since evening. As I sat there, staring at the threads of black that the crawling droplets were leaving on the foggy window, my thoughts drifted through the events of the day. The way I had mindlessly gone through the day, unconcerned about anyone around me. The way I had walked out to roam the streets without a word of explanation to anyone. I remembered the way I had walked, my head hung low, staring at my feet as they came back and forth in view. I had wandered into unknown streets taking turns as and when my mind pleased, melting into gloom over and over again. Then, I finally began walking towards ma apartment. I remembered waiting at a corner to cross a busy thoroughfare, when an urchin, a little girl, walked up to me and tugged at my jeans and offered to sell me something. I quickly snapped at her and stared right ahead, eager to cross the street. She called out to me again, her sweet, innocent voice barely a whisper now. Looking at my sullen countenance, she offered to sell me her wares at a reduced price. Already sulky, I shoved a note towards her, paying her much more than what she had demanded earlier, grabbed whatever was in her hand and walked quickly across the street. What happened after that seemed to be a vague memory. I remembered that I had then walked into a garden, already in the throes of morbidity. And then, I remember, as I was meandering, it began to drizzle. I continued to stroll aimlessly when suddenly, the drizzle gave way to heavy downpour. I quickened my footsteps and began to walk faster. As the rain grew in intensity, I hastily threw my recent purchase away and ran for cover. Ran until I realized that walking, drowning in the rain offered better solace. I slowly walked back home, alone and miserable. I remembered that as I closed my apartment door, I noticed that I had two messages waiting for me. Those dreadful messages….
I snapped out of my stupor and jumped back to the present. The wind was now howling outside and the rain continued to lash against my windows. I moved my fingers across my face, sank back in on to the bed and gently my eyes fall over my bloodshot eyes. Where had it all gone wrong? What had I done to deserve her betrayal? And what had my friend done to deserve mine? As his face drifted into focus, I blurred into depression. What was I doing to myself? Why this misery? Would it have honored his friendship? Why had I lost myself on the grey horizons of melancholia? Why was I so petrified of my own soliloquy?
As the ensuing calm deepened, it gave remorse the opportunity it was looking for. It pounced back on, clawing at my soul, assailing my mind with glimpses of a life gone by. It all came back. The look of my friend’s face when he knew I had screwed up. Big time. The silly bets we’d got ourselves into. But most of all, I recalled that lonely, rainy night we’d spent hanging out at the terrace. We sat there, unmindful of the lashing rain and talked. Talked about soccer, relationships, our past, their future, everything under the Sun and The Dark Side Of The Moon. Talked about life.
Talked about everything.
And nothing.
And that’s when it hit me. I opened my eyes in shock and lay there, unable to breathe. I quickly got up, grabbed my windcheater and ran out of my apartment. Ran in the rain, oblivious to the world around me. Ran as fast as I could. I ran. I raced towards the garden I had walked into earlier during the day. The garden was closed and the gates were shut but I couldn’t care less. Hoisting myself with the help of the gates, I climbed onto the wall and jumped over. I ran in, heaving, and then suddenly pulled to a stop. There it was. Looking at it, I smiled. Smiled for the first time in months. Smiled, as the magic filled me in with life.
There it lay, among the bushes, beautifully woven amongst the blades of the emerald grass, whispering the sweetest of poetry.
There it lay.
The rose I had bought from the little girl at the traffic signal.
No matter how hard I tried, I could not scare them away. The demons in my dreams, the ghosts in my head. I lay in bed, tired of tossing and turning around and tried to grasp onto the merest hint of silence but I felt them charge menacingly back in, kicking and screaming. Those ghosts, those memories, gnawing into every thought that my mind struggled to give birth to. It had been a tough month. No, not tough, terrible. Rejection, failure, regret, heartbreak and death. The past month had seen it all.
Life seemed to have been stuck in reverse, pounding against the wall, refusing to budge. And I, feeling queasy about the ease of hopelessness, dived right in, stoic and limp, to drown in a sea of bitter emotions, having lost myself in the land of grief. I had gone through it all. The failure of everything I’d held on to, those regretful decisions, her betrayal and the worst of all, living to see a friend’s final breath. My dearest one.
I was stuck in a place where every single breath I took burned my throat, throttled me and seemed to freeze my blood. A place where every single thought raped my mind and sent gloom wandering through the graveyard of my heart to exhume every memory I had buried. I was at The Grim Reaper’s masquerade, soigné, eagerly looking forward to a hangover.
I opened my eyes, startled and disoriented. I couldn’t take it any longer. I pulled the covers aside, swung my legs over the edge of my bed and sat up. I sat there, slumped, with my head in my hands, my fingers running through my hair, tugging at the tiny knots of hair on my nape. I glanced down at the bottom of the French windows framing my balcony. The glass had been fogged by a sheet of mist, like a muslin cloth draped across its surface. It had been raining since evening. As I sat there, staring at the threads of black that the crawling droplets were leaving on the foggy window, my thoughts drifted through the events of the day. The way I had mindlessly gone through the day, unconcerned about anyone around me. The way I had walked out to roam the streets without a word of explanation to anyone. I remembered the way I had walked, my head hung low, staring at my feet as they came back and forth in view. I had wandered into unknown streets taking turns as and when my mind pleased, melting into gloom over and over again. Then, I finally began walking towards ma apartment. I remembered waiting at a corner to cross a busy thoroughfare, when an urchin, a little girl, walked up to me and tugged at my jeans and offered to sell me something. I quickly snapped at her and stared right ahead, eager to cross the street. She called out to me again, her sweet, innocent voice barely a whisper now. Looking at my sullen countenance, she offered to sell me her wares at a reduced price. Already sulky, I shoved a note towards her, paying her much more than what she had demanded earlier, grabbed whatever was in her hand and walked quickly across the street. What happened after that seemed to be a vague memory. I remembered that I had then walked into a garden, already in the throes of morbidity. And then, I remember, as I was meandering, it began to drizzle. I continued to stroll aimlessly when suddenly, the drizzle gave way to heavy downpour. I quickened my footsteps and began to walk faster. As the rain grew in intensity, I hastily threw my recent purchase away and ran for cover. Ran until I realized that walking, drowning in the rain offered better solace. I slowly walked back home, alone and miserable. I remembered that as I closed my apartment door, I noticed that I had two messages waiting for me. Those dreadful messages….
I snapped out of my stupor and jumped back to the present. The wind was now howling outside and the rain continued to lash against my windows. I moved my fingers across my face, sank back in on to the bed and gently my eyes fall over my bloodshot eyes. Where had it all gone wrong? What had I done to deserve her betrayal? And what had my friend done to deserve mine? As his face drifted into focus, I blurred into depression. What was I doing to myself? Why this misery? Would it have honored his friendship? Why had I lost myself on the grey horizons of melancholia? Why was I so petrified of my own soliloquy?
As the ensuing calm deepened, it gave remorse the opportunity it was looking for. It pounced back on, clawing at my soul, assailing my mind with glimpses of a life gone by. It all came back. The look of my friend’s face when he knew I had screwed up. Big time. The silly bets we’d got ourselves into. But most of all, I recalled that lonely, rainy night we’d spent hanging out at the terrace. We sat there, unmindful of the lashing rain and talked. Talked about soccer, relationships, our past, their future, everything under the Sun and The Dark Side Of The Moon. Talked about life.
Talked about everything.
And nothing.
And that’s when it hit me. I opened my eyes in shock and lay there, unable to breathe. I quickly got up, grabbed my windcheater and ran out of my apartment. Ran in the rain, oblivious to the world around me. Ran as fast as I could. I ran. I raced towards the garden I had walked into earlier during the day. The garden was closed and the gates were shut but I couldn’t care less. Hoisting myself with the help of the gates, I climbed onto the wall and jumped over. I ran in, heaving, and then suddenly pulled to a stop. There it was. Looking at it, I smiled. Smiled for the first time in months. Smiled, as the magic filled me in with life.
There it lay, among the bushes, beautifully woven amongst the blades of the emerald grass, whispering the sweetest of poetry.
There it lay.
The rose I had bought from the little girl at the traffic signal.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Eulogy
When the storm within me billows and rages,
When my ego works overtime on minimum wages,
When I can't find peace in the folds of my mind,
When I can't seem to remember those I've left behind,
When the colour has been drained from the iris of my eyes,
When the answer to every question is a series of sighs,
When life deludes me from my luck,
When it's always on Hole 18 that I'm stuck,
When I'm stabbed by the fork in the road,
When lies tempt me again, plead and goad,
When tears begin to taste sweet and memories sour,
When my dreams elope, distant and far.
When the stench of gloom seeps down to my bones,
When The Mistress calls upon her petty drones,
When innocence lies dead on a bed of roses,
When I reach for death and the life it proposes,
When time lies still in the cup of my hands,
When my emotions wander unknown lands,
When they all lie dead, the fortunate and the brave,
When my footprints lead me back to my grave.
Words, thou remain,
My sole redemption.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Shades Of Life
Most of us live our lives in a strange way.
We keep standing under an evergreen;
and wait for autumn to arrive.
We keep standing under an evergreen;
and wait for autumn to arrive.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Magnum Opus
The City Of Dreams.
Peace in motion.
Motionless chaos.
Loneliness amongst a crowd.
Crowded with loners.
Rain in a desert.
Fire in the sea.
A god among atheists.
A dying man among gods.
The dance within mourning.
The mournings of dance.
Stationary on wheels.
Going nowhere.
A star within the haze.
Blinded by the stars.
People on the roads.
Cars on the pavements.
The underworld resides in the high-rises.
The high-rises go underground.
Stolen diamonds ride on purchased necks.
Breathing to live.
Dying to breathe.
The sea on your bodies.
Bodies in the sea.
Hush Puppies in puddles of mud.
Dance like no one's looking.
The glitter in those sunken eyes.
A smile on those hungry lips.
Fast life.
Slow death.
Temples amidst graveyards.
Graveyards amidst temples.
Celebrating to starve.
Starving to celebrate.
Saplings within acid.
The poison in your blood.
Flight of dreams.
Chained to hope.
A virgin among whores.
The goddess among devils.
Heartwarming smiles.
Botoxed faces.
Love lost.
Lost love.
Denial.
Hope.
Death within life.
Life within death.
To Bombay, with love.
Whispers
Maybe I've been blinded by the stars,
cajoled by the rain,
whispered to life by the moist breeze.
But I've felt it.
Felt the wind shiver at my touch,
the darkness scream at my silence,
felt the moonlight ripple at my calm.
The riddles all lie answered,
the views all merge,
dew drops drench my eyes,
as the ghosts of my memories finally accept me as their own.
Strange, it seems,
that, here, in the middle of nowhere,
I have found myself.
cajoled by the rain,
whispered to life by the moist breeze.
But I've felt it.
Felt the wind shiver at my touch,
the darkness scream at my silence,
felt the moonlight ripple at my calm.
The riddles all lie answered,
the views all merge,
dew drops drench my eyes,
as the ghosts of my memories finally accept me as their own.
Strange, it seems,
that, here, in the middle of nowhere,
I have found myself.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Quiet
The stars seem to fade away,
Moonlight burns my skin,
The breeze tastes bitter,
As the ocean builds my coffin.
I tiptoe through the wet sand,
Search for shells to step upon,
Long for the sunset's embrace,
And wait for darkness to laugh.
I trudge through nothingness,
My mind sings itself to sleep,
As the white horses ahead, surge,
To trample over my numb heart.
I melt into the droplets of night,
And let the wind paint my eyes black,
I breathe one last lungful of greed,
And take my final plunge.
I guess I'm still thirsty.
Moonlight burns my skin,
The breeze tastes bitter,
As the ocean builds my coffin.
I tiptoe through the wet sand,
Search for shells to step upon,
Long for the sunset's embrace,
And wait for darkness to laugh.
I trudge through nothingness,
My mind sings itself to sleep,
As the white horses ahead, surge,
To trample over my numb heart.
I melt into the droplets of night,
And let the wind paint my eyes black,
I breathe one last lungful of greed,
And take my final plunge.
I guess I'm still thirsty.
Friday, February 1, 2008
There and back again....
Wondering about the end, dreaming about the beginning; I'm still on the road.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Fable
Some of us fall in love with loneliness; then there are those who fall in loneliness with love...
Lilting Sadness
Isn't it ironical that a world bursting at its seams is filled with hollow, hollow men?
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Shadows
Lost in a maze of mirrors,
Can't find the one to which I belong,
Tasting madness every instant,
Is this a dream that went wrong?
My own reflection scares me to death,
Thieves reside behind my eyes,
Stare at me, standing there, naked,
Body and mind, gift wrapped in lies.
Now that I'm lying to myself,
To whom to I dare and apologize,
Life hands me a new deck of cards,
"Take your chances, try and be wise".
Clenched are the fists of my life,
Unable to hold on nor to let go,
Here, huddled behind curtains of chicane,
I'm wondering, which way did time flow?
Sometimes, the clouds do open up,
But all I seem to get is cold sunshine,
To blind me, to remind me,
That now, it's with the slaves I dine.
Not a single blossom in the wind,
Scattered away are those magic seeds,
Take a walk down memory lane,
It's not your feet, but your heart that bleeds.
Now that I'm bargaining with Father Time,
To buy my past, for letting it be,
While my soul gently weeps and whispers,
A requiem for me, a requiem for me.
Can't find the one to which I belong,
Tasting madness every instant,
Is this a dream that went wrong?
My own reflection scares me to death,
Thieves reside behind my eyes,
Stare at me, standing there, naked,
Body and mind, gift wrapped in lies.
Now that I'm lying to myself,
To whom to I dare and apologize,
Life hands me a new deck of cards,
"Take your chances, try and be wise".
Clenched are the fists of my life,
Unable to hold on nor to let go,
Here, huddled behind curtains of chicane,
I'm wondering, which way did time flow?
Sometimes, the clouds do open up,
But all I seem to get is cold sunshine,
To blind me, to remind me,
That now, it's with the slaves I dine.
Not a single blossom in the wind,
Scattered away are those magic seeds,
Take a walk down memory lane,
It's not your feet, but your heart that bleeds.
Now that I'm bargaining with Father Time,
To buy my past, for letting it be,
While my soul gently weeps and whispers,
A requiem for me, a requiem for me.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Maybe...
If your present is supposed to be a reflection of your past, isn't your future gonna be the same as well?
Life, anyone?
Life, anyone?
Frost
Fill your heart up with sunshine,
Guess it's about time that you let go,
Fall in love with that stranger in your mirror,
And stop waiting under that mistletoe.
(Written on the 24th of December,2007)
Guess it's about time that you let go,
Fall in love with that stranger in your mirror,
And stop waiting under that mistletoe.
(Written on the 24th of December,2007)
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